


The Long Walk Home

by things_that_matter



Series: CMBYN: Life with Ollie [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Discipline, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Intimacy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28609557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/things_that_matter/pseuds/things_that_matter
Summary: Ollie was supposed to ride the bus home.This story is a little steamier than a lot of my stories, but still very mild.
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Series: CMBYN: Life with Ollie [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094873
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	The Long Walk Home

**Author's Note:**

> Contains spoilers, a character not introduced until the end the second book, Find Me.

Elio stood in the kitchen, staring at the box for a long time. He was scrunching his nose, squinting his eyes, and he even resorted to underlining the words with his finger like Ollie did when he read. But still, these instructions made no sense. Elio was not stupid. He spoke three languages, was well-read, and could play multiple instruments. But, what on earth was a wire whisk? 

It was the fourth time this week that Oliver would be home late, which meant he was supposed to start dinner himself. He'd failed on the three previous occassions, all for very good reasons, of course. The first afternoon, he forgot. That wasn't really his fault, because it was so unusual for him to be home first. Honestly, he didn't even remember agreeing to this rule to begin with. The second time, there was nothing to cook in the house. He'd checked all of the cabinets, the fridge, the freezer... and although they were overflowing with strange leafy vegetables, cans, bottles, and boxes, he saw nothing that resembled food. He'd been shocked when Oliver came in thirty minutes later and managed to transform those vegetables, bottles, and boxes into an actual meal. Oliver  said he wasn't angry, but Elio heard him muttering something about "spoiled" and "servants" under his breath as he cooked. He was a bit insulted by this, and so on the third night, he was determined to do better, but of course that was the day the surprise chemistry set arrived, and who wouldn't take a few minutes to check out the chemistry set first? 

But, those days were behind him. This was day four, and Elio was determined to produce something edible come hell or high water. But, he was also more than a little relieved that Oliver's campus visitors would be leaving tomorrow so things could go back to normal. Normal being all the days when Oliver arrived first and cooked dinner and got Ollie started on his homework. 

Speaking of Ollie.... Elio put the box down and looked at his watch to see it was nearly 4:30. Ollie's bus had been arriving at a few minutes past 4:00 every day. He looked toward the door, where Ollie always dropped all of his things in the floor until one of them made him put them away. There was nothing there. He took a deep breath to assure himself that he was not panicking as he walked down the hallway to Ollie's room. There was no sign of him there. Besides, he would have heard him come in. He slowly walked over to the door, opened it, and stepped outside. "Ollie?" he called. He looked left and right, but there was no sign of him. The weather was clear, so the bus shouldn't be running this late. Then, Elio saw something that caused fear to slither up his spine like a cold green snake. The children next door were outside playing happily, and Elio knew that they rode the same bus. If they were home already, then where was his brother? 

He took another deep breath and began to walk across the yard. He quickly remembered that he should have slipped his feet into flip flops, because stickers were embedding themselves into his soles. It's one of the things about the United States that still hadn't adjusted to. He tried to ignore the sharp prickles, though, and continued the short walk across the yard. As he approached the children, he saw them look up from their sidewalk chalk doodles, and heard them calling to him happily, "Hi Elio!" 

He tried to smile back as he answered them, "Hey guys, have you seen Ollie?" And the two children looked at each other. Elio wasn't sure how to interpret the look they gave one another, but finally the older one said, "Not recently." Something about the way he said this made Elio feel the words had been carefully chosen. 

"Well, was he on the bus?" Elio asked. 

This time, the younger child spoke up, and she seemed much more confident in her answer. "Nope, not on the bus!" she said as she brushed the hair out of her face, leaving a bright pink chalk smudge on her cheek. 

Elio looked at the older child again. He was drawing chalk outlines on the sidewalk, as if he might be a detective one day. He didn't look up at Elio, even when Elio had been looking at him for a prolonged amount of time. He was definitely being evasive, Elio decided. 

"Did you see him at school today?" Elio asked. He had a feeling he could get the answer he needed if he asked the right question. These were only elementary students, after all. The older child shrugged, but the younger girl nodded. Okay, so Ollie had been at school. That was good. 

"Do you know why he wasn't on the bus?" Elio asked next. The younger girl opened her mouth to answer, but the older boy looked at her and shook his head discreetly. 

Elio looked at his watch again. It was 4:45. He didn't have time to play detective with the witnesses. Instead, he began walking up the sidewalk and to the door of the house. He raised his hand to knock, but the older child jumped to his feet and ran quickly to him. 

"Ollie's at school I think. He got detention. He told us not to tell," the boy blurted out all at once. 

"Why did he get detention?" Elio asked. But both children shrugged. 

"How was he going to get home?" Elio asked next. 

"I think maybe he was going to walk," the younger girl answered, and the older one nudged her with his elbow. 

Elio ran back to the house, plucked the stickers from his foot, and slipped on the espadrilles by the door. He grabbed the key, which he'd thankfully hung on the hook where it was supposed to go for once, and jumped in the car. He began driving toward the school. The school was not far away, and they felt the town was safe. Ollie had been asking to walk to school for a while. But, they'd told him no. He was too young for several reasons, but there was one primary reason. He would have to cross a four lane, high traffic intersection. Both Elio and Oliver agreed that Ollie was in no way old enough to cross alone. 

When Elio had driven only three blocks, there was Ollie, walking happily down the road. He wasn't even on the sidewalk, but was actually on the shoulder of the road. Elio stopped the car abruptly, leaned across the passenger side, and popped the door open. Ollie looked at him, and took in Elio's angry features. He just stood there, frozen. He clearly didn't want to get into the car with his angry older brother. 

"Get in," Elio prompted. So, Ollie had no real choice but to slide into the car and pull the door shut. Elio looked at him for a long moment, and Ollie wondered why they weren't moving. Ollie busied himself with the task of trying to memorize his own fingerprints. Anything to avoid looking at Elio. 

Finally, Elio muttered, "Buckle up," and after Ollie did this, Elio slid the car into drive and drove back home without saying another word. 

When they got into the house, Ollie dropped his jacket, lunch box, and backpack onto the floor, just as he did every day. Elio corrected him sharply, "Put your things where they go, Ollie. We shouldn't have to tell you the same thing day after day." 

"Sorry," Ollie muttered. He picked up his things and shuffled down the hall toward his room. 

While Elio stood in the doorway, trying to decide what to do first, he heard another car pull into the drive, and he knew without turning around who it was. He turned anyway, relieved that backup had finally arrived. Oliver crossed the yard quickly. He always moved at a quick pace compared to Elio. When he reached Elio, he was smiling and happy. Before he sat down his things, he leaned down and kissed Elio. It was meant to be a simple kiss of greeting, but Elio was so relieved to see him, that he leaned into the kiss and parted his lips. Oliver pulled back and smiled a different kind of smile. "I think someone missed me," he teased. 

Elio touched his own lips, looked down, suddenly shy. Oliver put his hand on the the side of his face and gave him a questioning look. "What's wrong?" he asked as he walked toward his study where he could drop off his things. But, he quickly noticed that Ollie wasn't doing his homework. The table wasn't set. The smell of dinner cooking was definitely not lingering in the air. He sighed deeply and gave Elio a look that spoke volumes about how he felt about his inability to help out. 

"I have a really good reason," Elio began. 

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Oh let me guess.... you forgot? No wait, we didn't have any food? Or did we recieve a frog in the mail that you and Ollie just had to disect immediately?" 

Oliver was down the hall by this time, leaving Elio standing still by the doorway, wondering what just happened. "Leave me alone," Elio muttered, sounding even to himself like a child in need of a nap. It didn't matter, though, because he'd already been left completely alone. 

___________________________________________________________________ 

Late that night, after cooking dinner together and deciding what to do about Ollie, Elio and Oliver finally laid in bed together, lingering in that state between wake and sleep when they were both exhausted, but they both wanted to spend time together, too. Elio was laying on his side, facing the window. Moonlight splashed across his pale skin, making him look even more beautiful, Oliver thought. Oliver rolled into Elio's back, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him close to his chest, threading their legs together. He kissed the back of Elio's neck, and Elio smiled despite himself. Elio found it somewhat annoying that his body and even his face responded to Oliver's touch even when his mind didn't want to. Oliver used one finger to lightly trace a design onto the creamy, moon-painted skin of Elio's upper arm and shoulder. Elio knew this game. It would be letters, and he busied himself trying to determine what the message was. 

"Do it again," he whispered. Oliver rubbed the skin with his palm as if it were an eraser, and started again. Elio could make out the "I" and thought it would be "I love you," but he quickly determined that it wasn't. After a few more letters, Elio lost track and laughed. He gently shook out the area and whispered, "One more time." This time, Oliver used his lips as the imaginary eraser, and they both noticed how Elio's body responded. Oliver smiled. This time as he traced the letters with his finger, he spoke each letter aloud, slowly. "I...A...M...S...O...R...R..." and of course by then Elio knew. He slowly rolled over, facing Oliver. His breathing was slow, and deep. 

"You don't have to be sorry," he whispered to Oliver. Oliver kissed him before replying, "I should have listened to you." Elio smiled again, clearly pleased. Oliver didn't apologize to him very often. Elio understood that it didn't come easily to him, though he didn't understand why. It was something he himself seemed to do frequently these days. 

Elio took the hand that Oliver was resting on his side and slid it downward. "I know how you can make it up to me," he whispered. Oliver began to gently rub the spot that Elio requested, but he yawned playfully. 

"I don't know, Elio. I'm so.... tired," he teased. Elio groaned, but Oliver didn't stop rubbing. Elio turned his body so that Oliver could have better access. He loved his days with Oliver, and the life they were creating together. But, he thought he might like the nights even more. 


End file.
